Moments
by Viva la Rasta
Summary: Drabbles surrounding everyone's favorite female werewolf. Leah/Sam light hint of Leah/Jacob


**A/N:**

Okay, so I decided to do that little iPod shuffle challenge, and let me tell you, it is not as easy as you might think. But any way, if these drabbles suck, just remember I was rushed, tired, and probably on something.

:)

It's rated T for language, and little hints of sexual content.

The main pairing is Leah/Sam, but there's a hint of Jacob/Leah for all you Blackwater lovers.

* * *

**In The Ayer  
**- _Flo Rida ft. T-Pain_

It was one of those hokey little pack-gatherings. The ones that Sam used as an excuse to get everyone to 'bond'. They usually came in the form of bon fires, dinner at the soon-to-be _Uley_ residence, or a nice little cookout at Paul's place.

Today, they were at a club in Port Angeles. Yeah, imagine how that looked- a group of freakishly large people walking in a crowded place. Brilliant idea, Sam.

She had rejected five offers to dance, one from Jacob, two from Embry, and two from some locals. Finally, when Sam had the nerve to come up and ask her to join him, Leah laughed in his face.

"Why do you do that? Why are you such a bitch?" He had asked, throwing his hands up and frowning at the girl he had called his first love.

"Because, moron, I hate your fucking guts. And this," She replied, indicating to the current song blaring from the nearby speakers. "Isn't even my jam."

Truth be told, Leah Clearwater gave up on claiming songs.

* * *

**Closer**_  
- NeYo_

"You know, it doesn't help when you follow me around like a sick puppy."

Sam shifted his gaze to the ground, knowing that he had been caught. "I can't help it. Habit, I suppose."

Leah snorted. "Well break it." And with that, she left him standing there, looking even more pathetic then he had originally, and when she was far enough away so that he couldn't see her, she unclenched the fist she had kept to her side the entire walk home.

Her fingers still ached to touch him, as well.

* * *

**Swing  
**_**-** Savage_

She had always been good with her hips. When she was younger, her ballet teacher frowned upon this because the art of this particular dance was supposed to be done so with grace, beauty.

Leah quit ballet shortly after that.

Years later, at Rachel Black's Halloween party, she used those same hips to entice every single male in the room. You couldn't help but stare because the way she moved put all hoochie mama's in the music videos to shame. All men present that night couldn't tear their eyes away from her grinding into the air, in perfect rhythm to the beat- all save one.

Sam would shake his head, and instead of focusing on her body, he would lock eyes with her, knowing that she _had_ to be thinking- if at least some point during the night -the same thing he was.

Apparently, those hips had grinded into a lot more than thin air, once upon a time before imprinting and werewolves- just ask the bulge in his pants.

* * *

**Wouldn't It Be Nice  
**_- The Beach Boys_

She started to hate sleep with a passion. Mostly because as of late, her dreams had gotten crueler and just plain painful.

She'd wake up in a cold sweat, step outside to smoke and _try_ to at least relieve some of the stress, and then phase, letting her wolf form take over and help clear her head. Only recently, however, she hadn't been alone in her head-clearing.

"Another dream?" He'd ask, coming to sit next to her on the grassy hill, just as naked as she was.

"Yep."

"Kids included?"

"You know it."

"How many?"

"Two boys."

And it was then she would risk a glance at her old alpha, noting the way he looked just as miserable and disappointed in the fact that her dreams were just that... dreams. They'd had a nice house this time. Big, two stories, and the sun never stopped _fucking_ shining on the Uley residence. They were happy, colorful, and just plain perfect. Clearing her throat, Leah inclined her head in his direction. "You?"

"Two girls- almost as pretty as their mama." And they would spend the rest of the evening sitting there, mauling over the what-ifs and could've-beens.

* * *

**Disturbia  
**_- Rihanna_

"You're sick, you know that? A sick, twisted, conniving little bitch!"

She just laughed at the low-life yelling with so much anger built up inside of him that his face had turned strawberry red.

Mmm, strawberries. She could have really gone for some at that point.

"Do you hear me, bitch? You're insane!"

It was then she took a few steps forward, bending down so that her breath tickled the man's nose, strangely enough bringing on an arousal on his behalf. He coiled back in fear of her outburst, but no such thing came. "Sweetie," She began to say softly in that dangerously low voice that reminded the man of the expression 'calm before the storm'. "I knew that _way_ before you did."

In a lightning quick movement, Leah brought her high heeled shoe down roughly on his groin for the second time that night. The un-named trucker that had just been looking for a good time howled in pain as tears began to form in his eyes.

"Quit saying it like it's a bad thing, okay?" With that, she pivoted her foot, driving the heel deeper into his private area before removing her foot altogether. Calmly, while the victim made his way out of the bar, she turned in her seat and smiled at the bar-tender.

"I'll take a strawberry daiquiri, please."

Obeying at once, the bartender prepared this psycho woman's drink, knowing that tomorrow when he would go watch the game at his good friend Sam Uley's house, he'd have one hell of a story to tell about the bombshell that crushed a guy's knads, simply for eyeing her curvy body the minute she walked through the door.

* * *

**Paper Planes  
**_- MIA_

In elementary, she had gotten an award for the best D.A.R.E essay.

In middle school, she did her Health Science report on 'The Dangers of Substance Abuse', and had gotten an A, with a little star sticker.

In high school, she had joined numerous clubs (the more clubs on her college applications, the better) most of which had to do with the avoidance of drugs and alcohol.

Now, at twenty, she knows how to take a hit from a bong and inhale like a pro. She can whoop the guys' asses in Beer Pong, and can even guzzle three cans of Bud Light from a funnel in one sitting, even though she's not even _legal_. She's never done anything _too_ crazy under the influence, but there have been times where she's thought about it, many times.

If you were to ask Leah when she started taking up all these bad habits, despite her clean past, she'd tell you a little after she graduated. However, what she _really_ means is _exactly_ four days after she walked down the aisle and received her high school diploma.

The same day Sam met Emily.

* * *

**I Ran  
**- _Flock of Seagulls_

They were sitting on her dad's old truck, the bed down so that they could sprawl out in the back. Just the two of them- the alpha and his beta.

"Where did you go?" She asked, out of nowhere, picking out a piece of grass from his hair that probably stuck there whenever they were rolling around in the grass earlier.

"What do you mean?" Unconsciously, Jacob leaned into her touch.

"When you found out about Bella and Edwards wedding, you ran." She stated matter-of-factly. "Where did you go?"

He took a minute to think about it, and then finally shrugged. "I don't know. Wherever my feet carried me, I guess."

There was a moment's pause between them, and Leah focused her gaze up at the sky, tracing the name 'Lee Lee' with her finger.

"Must be nice."

* * *

Good? Bad. Let me know.

* * *

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End file.
